The Plan to Save the Villainess Supporting Actress [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 26.1

Before the height of summer arrived, the stifling humidity enveloped everything, saturating the air with the scent of rain-soaked earth from the previous night, mingled with the fragrance of greenery a thick, unmistakable aroma unique to summer.

The moment their warm lips met, the last thread of reason in her mind snapped.

On the concrete landing, Nan Zhi leaned down, cradling Zhu Ran’s face, forcing her to look up.

A dream had become reality.

Their soft lips pressed together, then parted, then pressed again, suspended in the sultry air of the rainy season, carried by the wind. With each fleeting separation, they drew closer, only to be lost again in the encroaching mist, pushed to some unseen corner.

The loose strands of hair framing their faces curled and tangled, brushing lightly against their cheeks and noses.

It was as if thorny brambles had sprouted roses, as if delicate climbing vines had wound their way up decaying wood in a forest of ebony, meeting migratory birds passing through.

Could a summer night’s wind really conjure so many beautiful illusions?

Zhu Ran’s eyes remained tightly shut as the warm, mist-laden breeze caressed her skin. The scent of coconut milk melted into the heat, sweet and intoxicating.

In the distance, the wind swept over the camphor trees, rustling the leaves and making the streetlights sway drunkenly.

Shadows flickered, unsteady and elusive.

Once her breath was stolen, even her lungs seemed to burn.

As it went on, Nan Zhi became like a dog unwilling to let go of its toy careful not to hurt, but refusing to release.

The sharp tips of her little fangs grazed lightly, teasing, nipping, tugging, as if she truly wanted to devour her whole.

The kiss Nan Zhi had imagined was dreamlike, but now—

It was more dizzying than the neon lights flashing wildly in the distance.

It wasn’t just her tongue from lips to the root of her tongue, from mouth to fingertips, from limbs to the core of her heart.

Every part of her was numbed by a poison called Zhu Ran.

Only one thought remained.

She wanted more.

Not just this. Not only this.

How could a single kiss ever be enough?

Nan Zhi pulled back slightly, panting, allowing Zhu Ran’s slightly swollen lips a moment to recover.

Half-opening her eyes, she gazed down at her conquest with the thrill of victory.

Just as she had imagined Zhu Ran’s long, dark lashes fluttered like crow’s feathers.

But beyond her expectations, Zhu Ran’s half-lidded eyes, hazy with moisture, held a bewitching allure, the corners tinged with an unearthly, mesmerizing shade of red.

Nan Zhi suddenly thought of their ship name, as if harboring a colossal secret.

The world would never know that this cat, in her arms, could melt like a drunken little fox.

The moment their lips parted, Zhu Ran gasped for air, her dazed eyes flickering with a hint of confusion, as if questioning why Nan Zhi had pulled away.

Nan Zhi chuckled breathlessly. “Hey, you’re going to tear my clothes.”

From the moment Nan Zhi had leaned in to kiss her, Zhu Ran’s hands had been clutching the hem of her pink T-shirt, crumpling it beyond recognition.

Blushing, Zhu Ran loosened her grip, finally releasing the wrinkled fabric.

The hands cradling her face shifted slightly, a thumb brushing over the corner of her lips, wiping away a trace of moisture.

Nan Zhi cast a regretful glance at their yoga pants, suppressing another, far more improper thought.

Just a kiss had already crossed the line. Some things had to be taken slowly.

The air grew heavier, thicker with heat even the rooftop couldn’t escape it.

The damp air carried the scent of camphor leaves, drifting slowly like a restless heart.

Nan Zhi released Zhu Ran’s face and moved her hands downward, slipping into Zhu Ran’s palms. Her fingers gently pried apart Zhu Ran’s, slowly intertwining before tightening their grip.

Fingers laced together.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Nan Zhi kissed Zhu Ran’s lips again, chuckling softly.

“What?”

Her lips were too close every word Zhu Ran spoke brushed against them.

The sensation tickled, making Zhu Ran instinctively lean back.

Nan Zhi marveled at the discovery: the ice-cold beauty, once melted, turned out to be as sweet as an apricot.

The more flustered Zhu Ran became, the more Nan Zhi wanted to paint her aloof expression with new hues, stirring pristine snow into delicate pink cherry blossoms, a breathtaking sight.

“I said I like you,” Nan Zhi murmured, barely resisting the urge to lick her lips. “Someone’s confessing to you. Shouldn’t you respond? Do you like me or not?”

The moment the question left her lips, Zhu Ran’s eyes flickered with a sudden shift.

Nan Zhi didn’t miss it. She leaned back slightly, voice soft. “What’s wrong?”

Outwardly composed, her heart raced faster than it had during their kiss.

A rare sixth sense surfaced in her still-dazed mind, flashing a warning signal.

Her brow twitched without warning, as if foreseeing what was to come.

“I…” Zhu Ran parted her lips, her eyes clouded as if shrouded in mist. After a long pause, she seemed to steel herself. “Before I answer, do you want to hear my story?”

As if remembering something, she quickly added before Nan Zhi could speak, “The part I didn’t tell you last time.”

Nan Zhi held her hand as they sat side by side, nodding gently.

It was probably what Shen Jiaying had mentioned earlier.

The evening breeze drifted lazily under the heavy night sky.

The girl’s cool voice recounted the past, the words dissipating emptily in the wind.

From losing her father, entering the Shen family, “causing” Shen Jiaying’s fall into the water, the piano incident.

This time, it wasn’t about “older sister” or “younger sister” just “me” and “Shen Jiaying.”

Zhu Ran laid bare every fragment of her past, stitching it seamlessly into Nan Zhi’s world.

“After that, every time Shen Jiaying fainted, I’d be locked in the basement.”

Zhu Ran narrowed her eyes, fighting against the fear as she dredged up the memories.

“Because it was my fault she lost her health. Later, if Shen Jiaying made a mistake, Shen Yan would lock me in that dark room too. Because whenever Shen Jiaying got scolded, her blood pressure would spike, making her dizzy and nauseous sometimes even passing out on the spot.”

Nan Zhi’s gaze darkened, fury simmering beneath the surface.

To the Shen family, Zhu Ran was little more than a trash can.

A receptacle for their frustrations, a punching bag for their rage.

As if dumping all their ugliness onto her would somehow purify their lives.

In their eyes, Zhu Ran was a tool, an object anything but a human being.

Monsters.

“When Shen Jiaying was little, she hated seeing me smile. She said it looked ugly and made her uncomfortable. So I stopped smiling. At school, everyone thought I was hard to get along with. No one wanted to be friends with me except Shen Jiaying.”

“At first, I was heartbroken too. Then Shen Jiaying told me that I that I killed my own father,” Zhu Ran took a deep breath, “that I caused her to fall into the water, that I gave Jiang Zhiyun her chronic headaches. How could a monster like me ever hope to be loved by anyone?”

“It’s strange. Even though her words were so venomous, the child I was back then believed them.”

Nan Zhi couldn’t help but interject, “You were just a child then. After being brainwashed for so long, it’s normal not to have the ability to discern right from wrong. The ones at fault were them.”

Zhu Ran tightened her clasped hands and gave a low hum of acknowledgment.

“Later, I realized the truth, but by then I couldn’t break free anymore.”

“Starting from middle school, I began having hallucinations.” Zhu Ran closed her eyes briefly. This was her deepest, most hidden secret, one even Shen Jiaying didn’t know about.

The pitch-black basement, the sound of dripping water every thirty seconds, the overlapping voices of Shen Yan and Jiang Zhiyun, and Shen Jiaying’s sickly sweet smile.

They appeared in her world many, many times.

Easily shattering the walls she had painstakingly built.

“I tried so hard to ignore them, or to distance myself from Shen Jiaying, but I couldn’t.”

“I didn’t know how to control it. Every time the hallucinations came, I could only—”

Zhu Ran’s voice cut off abruptly. Nan Zhi turned her head and, in the dim light, saw the expression on Zhu Ran’s face.

A fragile mix of disgust and fear.

Nan Zhi leaned forward and gently wrapped her arms around Zhu Ran.

Words sometimes felt too hollow.

No amount of vocabulary could soothe the pain someone had endured.

But warmth could.

The body heat of a loved one, the sudden racing of hearts when pressed close, kisses filled with affection.

All Nan Zhi could do was use this warmth to heal the wounds of Zhu Ran’s past.

“I don’t have the confidence to be a perfect lover.”

After a long while, Zhu Ran, having calmed down, buried her face in the crook of Nan Zhi’s neck and spoke in a muffled voice.

What she couldn’t bring herself to say was: I’m afraid you’ll come to hate me.

Even though she knew Nan Zhi wasn’t like Shen Jiaying, the fear was instinctive.

Dreading love had become Zhu Ran’s habit.

Whether it was receiving it or giving it.

It had been so long since she’d felt what it was like to be loved wholeheartedly love had become something foreign to her.

“No one is a perfect lover,” Nan Zhi said, holding Zhu Ran tighter. “And I don’t need you to be perfect. You’re Zhu Ran. Just being yourself is enough.”

Nan Zhi loosened her embrace slightly and met Zhu Ran’s gaze.

Their eyes locked black and white, clear and distinct. All Zhu Ran saw in Nan Zhi’s eyes was sincerity.

“The Zhu Ran I see is the one with a beautiful singing voice.”

“The one who teaches me to dance, who stands behind me and beside me, who is breathtakingly beautiful, who always looks at me, who cries quietly when we kiss.”

“I just like Zhu Ran, that’s all.”

Loving someone never needed excuses or reasons.

What personas? What control?

To hell with all of that.

All she wanted was for Zhu Ran to be free to become whoever she wanted to be.

“Zhu Ran, there are so many joyful things in this world. You can experience them all. You can say ‘I love this’ to everything you like and ‘no’ to everything you hate tell them to fuck off and get lost.”

Nan Zhi wished she could teach Zhu Ran every kind of happiness.

Make her forget everything, leaving only the intertwining love they shared inescapable, unending.

Nan Zhi pressed a reverent kiss to Zhu Ran’s forehead.

“Happiness can cover everything. You don’t need to force yourself to forget those painful memories. I’ll replace them with something else, covering them all up for you. Like this.”

The fading cicada songs rose faintly once more as the dark clouds dispersed, revealing a full moon hanging high in the sky.

The cold moonlight flowed like water, as if the gods had cast their blessings upon the two girls.

This time, the kiss carried fewer thoughts just a pure conveyance of tender affection.

Nan Zhi tried to tease Zhu Ran, coaxing her out of this city to explore everything about Nan Zhi.

This was what love truly was.

Not just about taking, but about unlocking your happiness.

Isn’t the most primal joy just like this?

You should learn to embrace a life filled with love.

Feeling Zhu Ran’s response, Nan Zhi finally smiled contentedly, narrowing her eyes as she invited Zhu Ran to learn a little more.

The night grew deeper, the sultry air wrapping around the kissing lovers, gentle yet fervent.

Later, when they parted breathlessly, Nan Zhi felt as if she were about to be burned through by the fire named Zhu Ran.

It was just a kiss they hadn’t even taken the final step so, how could it feel like this?

At the same time, she strangely began to understand Shen Jiaying’s insecurity just a little.

Zhu Ran was truly…

Gifted.

No matter what it was, if you taught her once, she would remember it firmly, then take it further and return it to her teacher.

The flush on her face still lingering, Nan Zhi nuzzled against Zhu Ran, thinking.

Having such a student was truly wonderful.

[So in the end, Zhu Ran still didn’t say she likes you, nor did she confirm if you two are dating. Doesn’t that mean you’re still just pining unrequitedly?]

Nan Zhi: ?!

[Get lost already!]

“Shen Jiaying is acting a bit strange.”

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